


Klaine Valentines Challenge 2016: Fic Masterpost

by Pterodactyl



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, klainevalentinechallenge2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:46:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5891593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pterodactyl/pseuds/Pterodactyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the fic written for the klaine valentines challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh My Love

Kurt wakes to the sound of the piano.

It’s late in the morning, he can tell by how the light is shining through the curtains, but the space in the bed beside him is cold. Yawning, he rolls over, reaching out for his husband and finding nothing.

Kurt cracks an eye open, sees the bedroom door cracked open and pushes himself upright. The melody being played is familiar, but his half-asleep brain can’t quite put a finger on it.

It takes a moment for him to prepare himself for getting out of bed, shivering as he leaves the warm confines of the sheets and slips his feet into slippers. Still struggling to wake, he grabs the closest item of clothing - which happens to be Blaine’s slightly-too-small NYU sweatshirt - and shuffles out into the living room.

Blaine is sat at the piano, wrapped up in a blanket with two steaming mugs of coffee set in front of him. Kurt huffs a sigh, plonks down next to him and bumps their shoulders together in a silent  _move up_.

Blaine obliges, shakes the blanket off his shoulders so Kurt can wrap half of it around himself. He grabs the coffee closest to him, and rests his head on Blaine’s shoulder, listening to the melody take shape into something he knows.

“Oh my love, for the first time in my life...”

Kurt smiles, Blaine’s voice sleep-rough and familiar. He takes a sip of coffee, closes his eyes and joins in as best as he can.

“Oh, my lover, for the first time in my life,” he opens his eyes, focuses on Blaine’s hands on the keys, “My eyes can see...”

Curled warm against his husband’s side, watching the glint of the late morning sunlight off Blaine’s wedding band, they sing - a little rough and slightly out of tune in some places, Blaine’s fingers slipping on the keys when Kurt nuzzles into his throat. The last notes of the song linger in the air, and Blaine turns and kisses Kurt’s forehead.

“Morning,” he says softly, “Happy Valentine’s day.”

“Mm,” Kurt smiles, tips his head back down against Blaine’s shoulder and shuts his eyes again, “Happy Valentine’s day to you, too.”

 


	2. That's Amore

“You’re wrong.”

“I am not,” Blaine says loftily, “Italian _is_  the language of love.”

Kurt pauses in the middle of testing the firmness of two different eggplants to roll his eyes. “It’s not. French is.”

“How is French the language of love?”

“Edith Piaf? _La Vie en Rose?_   WALL-E is like, your _favourite_  film, Blaine.” Kurt deposits one of the eggplants in the cart and moves on to the fruit aisle. Blaine pouts, pushing the cart behind him.

“Um, have you ever heard _That’s Amore?_  That is an _iconic_  love song.”

“It’s also not in Italian,” Kurt says, “And it’s not going on our Valentine’s day playlist.”

“Why not?” Blaine reaches over and grabs two zucchini as they round the end of the aisle, ticking them off the list, “It’s a good song.”

“Because I don’t want to be listening to that song while I’m trying to seduce you,” Kurt says calmly, “It’s too cheesy.”

“We need apples,” Blaine says, “And it’s not cheesy.”

“Do you really want Dean Martin warbling about big pizza pies when I’m two minutes away from being inside your ass?”

“ _Kurt!”_ Blaine squeaks, glancing over his shoulder, “We’re in _public_.”

Kurt’s cheeks go red, but he barrels on anyway. “Our Valentine’s day playlist needs to be _sexy_. That’s why Beyoncé is on it.”

“Kurt, you put _Say No To This_  on the playlist.”

“It’s a sexy song!” Kurt says, his face slowly matching the colour of the tomatoes he’s holding.

“It’s about a founding father cheating on his wife.”

“Okay, fine,” Kurt slams the tomatoes into the cart, “You can have _That’s Amore_  if I can have _Say No To This_.”

“Deal,” Blaine says, “But _only_  if _Say No To This_  comes early during the playlist. Around when we’ll be having dinner. I really don’t want to be thinking about adultery _or_  the founding fathers while we’re being intimate.”

“Only if your song comes early too.”

“The only person who’s going to be coming early tomorrow is you,” Blaine says, waggling his eyebrows, Kurt throws a beetroot at him.


	3. make you feel my love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning for mention of a minor character death.

“Okay!” Kurt shoulders the door to the loft open, “I have chocolate and extra lube and a whole new pack of condoms, our Valentine’s evening is back on track - Blaine?”

His husband is sitting on the couch, dinner half-cleared away and his phone clutched in his hand. He’s staring into space, and as Kurt shuts the door and deposits his bag on the table, he realises Blaine is crying.

“Sweetheart? Oh my god, are you okay? What happened?”

Blaine blinks like he’s coming out of a trance, turns to face Kurt as he kneels down by the couch. “Kurt?”

“I’m here,” Kurt reaches out, tosses Blaine’s phone onto the armchair and takes his hands, “I’m here, honey, what happened?”

Blaine’s throat works a little and then he whispers “My grandma died.”

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt’s heart breaks for his husband, and he sits down next to him and pulls Blaine into his lap, “Blaine, I’m so sorry.”

“I hadn’t -” Blaine’s breath hitches, “I hadn’t - I didn’t even know she was sick -”

“On your dad’s side?” Kurt asks, tucking Blaine against his chest, and he nods. Kurt knows Blaine isn’t that in touch with his dad’s side of the family - they’re in the Philippines, and since Pam and William divorced there had been even less contact - but Blaine’s family ties mean a lot to him, and Kurt isn’t going to belittle them.

“I haven’t seen her for years but,” Blaine wipes his eyes and lets out a squeaky half-laugh half-cry, “God, I’m overreacting.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt kisses his forehead, “She was your grandmother, and you loved her. It’s okay to be sad.”

“I’m ruining Valentine’s Day,” Blaine starts to get up but Kurt pulls him back down, framing his face gently with his hands. “Blaine. Valentine’s day is - it’s an excuse for us to have a nice dinner and throw rose petals everywhere and buy expensive champagne and have really really long drawn out sex. We could do that _any_  day. Right now, if you’re not okay, then you’re not okay. We don’t have to do anything.”

“But -”

“Buts are for butts,” Kurt says firmly, and Blaine snorts, turning his face into Kurt’s shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Whatever you need. I’m here.”

Blaine’s shoulders tremble and Kurt hears him let out a soft sob, followed by another, until he’s crying into Kurt’s chest. Kurt squeezes him tight, tips his head against Blaine’s and starts to sing very softly.

“When the rain is blowing in your face...”

Blaine’s whole body shakes and his fingers curl into the material of Kurt’s sweater. Kurt holds him tighter, blinks back his own tears at seeing the love of his life so upset.

“And the whole world is on your case... I could offer you a warm embrace...”

He looks over at the bag left on the table, and he doesn’t even care about Valentine’s Day or romance or _anything_  any more - he just wants Blaine to be okay.

“To make you feel my love...”


	4. P.S. I Love You

Blaine wakes up _cold_.

He groans, rolls over and reaches for his husband, but the bed is empty. Slowly, as his mind catches up with his body, he remembers Kurt’s early shift that morning, and grimaces at the thought of his lovely body underneath that starchy, ugly uniform instead of naked in the bed with him.

 _Working on Valentine’s Day should be illegal_.

The logical part of his mind reminds him that Valentine’s Day is a ploy for companies to sell red things and chocolate for exorbitant prices, but the sappy romantic wants to drink champagne and have sex in a bed full of rose petals.

He rolls back over to get up and something crumples under his ribs. Blaine cracks open an eye and fishes it out, squinting at the post-it note.

 _dearest Blaine,_  
you looked so peaceful this morning I didn’t want to wake you to say goodbye. just know that I seriously considered waking you up for a valentine’s BJ.  
♥ Kurt

Blaine snorts and pushes himself upright, thanks whatever listening deity that he has today off, and goes to shower.

When he opens the bathroom cupboard to brush his teeth, there’s another sticky note on the inside of the door.

_brushing my teeth and thinking about how you always insist on kissing me before I do because you think it’s romantic. it is romantic. it’s also kind of gross.  
(don’t ever stop doing it, though.)_

He finds the third pinned to the fridge with a magnet, with a little doodle of them drawn on scrap paper beneath half of a shopping list.

_remember when I tried to stop keeping poptarts in the apartment and I was late for three opening shifts because I had to actually make breakfast?  
I’m so glad you went behind my back and bought some._

Blaine rereads the note over his plate of poptarts, standing barefoot in the kitchen, and curls his toes in delight.

He finds the last note in his jacket pocket, on the way to grab ingredients for their Valentine’s meal tonight.

_I’m so glad I married you.  
(You laid out that scarf I like on the table so I wouldn’t forget to wear it like I have the past few days.)_

Blaine smiles, starts tucking the note back into his pocket and then sees a second note written on the back. He flips it over and his heart skips a beat, the way it always does when he sees those words.

 _I’ll be coming home to you, love_  
And till the day I do, love,  
P.S. I ♥ Love ♥ You.


	5. i just called to say i love you

“Hey, Kurt, it’s me,” Blaine says, a little out of breath as he rushes out of the subway, their son’s feet kicking repeatedly at his spine, “I know you’re busy right now, and you probably won’t get this until later -”

He dodges a group of tourists, zips his coat up a little tighter. Strapped securely to his chest, their son has a fistful of his sweatshirt in one hand and a fistful of Blaine’s _actual skin_  in the other and is babbling away happily.

“ - But I just wanted to let you know that August and I are missing you a lot, and I hope LA is being good to you. I organised Mercedes to take August on the 15th, so we’re going to have the apartment to ourselves _all night_ , which is a pretty novel concept, right?”

August lets out a loud screech and Blaine winces, stroking his palm over his head, “That was August expressing his disappointment in our decision to rekindle a certain side of our relationship. Either that or he’s annoyed that he hasn’t drawn blood with how hard he’s trying to rip a section of skin off my neck right now, I’m not really sure.”

He rounds the corner to their street, lets out a relieved sigh as August finally releases his death grip on Blaine’s neck, “So, um, that’s basically everything, I think? Yeah, I really - I mean, I just called to say that we love you, and we miss you, and I can’t wait to pick you up from the airport tomorrow morning. Have a good flight, honey. See you soon.”

He swaps his phone out for his keys, smiles at the sweet little coffee shop’s Valentine decorations, and counts the moments until his husband is home.


	6. mirrors

“You know,” Kurt says sleepily, stroking his thumb over Blaine’s jaw, “Your wardrobe has taken on a certain flair lately.”

“Hm?” Blaine tilts his head up, “What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen you in a bowtie for weeks,” Kurt tugs on Blaine’s arm so they’re cuddled closer, “You were wearing one of my scarves yesterday.”

“Because it was cold,” Blaine grins, “And you wore one of my bowties.”

“Because it went with my outfit,” Kurt pokes him in the ribs, “I’m just saying, you’ve been less classic and more modern lately.”

“Hey, you’re the one who likes to shop for me,” Blaine grins, “I guess that’s what happens when you get married.”

“We turn into clones?” Kurt pulls a face, “I like my two inches of height on you, thanks.”

“Not _clones_ ,” Blaine scrunches up his nose, “More like... we start to mirror each other.”

“Oh yeah?” Kurt can’t help but smile, “Mirroring, huh?”

“Yeah,” Blaine nods firmly, “Mirroring.”

“Whatever you say, honey,” Kurt yawns, “As long as you set the alarm for our nap.”


	7. just the way you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning for dealing with kurt’s canonical OCD tendencies and depression.

Kurt has been in the bathroom for three hours.

Blaine shifts back and forth on the bed, picks at his cufflinks anxiously. Kurt had gone into the bathroom laughing at Blaine’s stupid joke, and hasn’t been seen since. Blaine would have called an ambulance by hour one if he hadn’t knocked once every ten minutes and heard a firm “ _I’m not ready!”_

Kurt’s suit isn’t in the bathroom with him, and they need to leave for their reservations in ten minutes. Blaine stares nervously at the door.

“Kurt?” he calls, “Honey? We need to leave, soon.”

No reply.

Blaine stands up, crosses the room and knocks on the door. “Honey? Are you okay in there?”

Still nothing. Blaine is starting to panic. “Kurt? Kurt, please answer me, I’m really worried.”

Again, nothing. Blaine’s heart is starting to beat faster. “Kurt? Sweetheart please answer me, I don’t want to have to call the firemen out on Valentine’s day, okay? Please open the door, I’m really -”

The door opens.

“Oh thank god,” Blaine breathes, “Kurt -”

His husband’s eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s shaking. Blaine reaches out, grabs his elbow. “Kurt. Please talk to me?”

“My dad,” Kurt croaks, “He was in the hospital.”

Blaine’s stomach drops to somewhere level with his ankles. “Oh my god. He’s -”

“He’s okay, it was just a scare,” Kurt’s face is snow white, “Carole called just as I was about to get in the shower, I - he fainted, it was low blood sugar, but they thought it was his heart -”

“Kurt, sweetheart,” he takes Kurt by the wrist, leads him through to sit on the bed, “Take a deep breath.”

“I just, I got the call and I was looking into the bathroom cupboard, and everything was out of place and I started cleaning and just couldn’t stop.”

“Okay,” Blaine wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulls him down against his chest, “Okay, it’s okay.”

“I’m ruining Valentine’s day,” Kurt wipes his eyes, “I’m sorry, my stupid - stupid brain, I just, I can’t stop worrying -”

“Kurt,” Blaine catches his chin, “Kurt, please don’t apologise. It’s okay. Listen, I’m going to run you a bath and you’re going to get in. Then I’m going to call your therapist -”

“I don’t need to talk to Amy, I  _don’t_  need a bath, I don’t need anything, we need to catch our reservations before I screw everything up even further -”

“Stop,” Blaine takes Kurt’s face in his hands, “Kurt, you’re not screwing anything up. Please don’t push yourself. I don’t care about the reservations. I just want you to be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt drops his face into his hands, “I hate it when I get like this.”

“I love you,” Blaine says helplessly, “I love you all the time, okay? Please don’t blame yourself.”

“I wish I could just switch it off,” Kurt says into his palms, “I was looking forward to this evening so much.”

“I know,” Blaine pulls them back onto the bed, tugs the comforter over them both, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Your suit -”

“I don’t care,” Blaine whispers, “C’mon. Just lay here with me a little while. We can get takeout later.”

“Okay,” Kurt whispers, curling his fingers into Blaine’s jacket, and letting out a shaky breath. Blaine sinks his fingers into Kurt’s hair, kisses his forehead.

“I love you,” he says softly, “Just the way you are.”

 


	8. everything has changed

Kurt wakes slowly.

He blinks his eyes open, takes in the light falling over the bedspread. One leg is sticking out from under the covers and the air is cold; he kicks the comforter back over himself and in the process dislodges Blaine’s head from where it’s nestled comfortably into the crook of his neck.

“ _Mmmmmmh_ ,” he groans, “Wassat.”

“Sorry, honey,” Kurt yawns, “Didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

“No, ‘m awake now,” Blaine rubs his face against Kurt’s shoulder and wriggles closer, “Not sleepy.”

“Uh-huh?” Kurt smiles, slides his arm around Blaine’s bare waist and strokes his palm over his hip. “Sure.”

“I am sure,” Blaine smiles sleepily at him, “Hey, you know what?”

“What?” Kurt stretches his spare arm above his head, arches his back a little. Blaine lets out a content laugh. “We’re _married_.”

Kurt feels that little flicker of heat in his stomach, the one that spreads all the way down to his fingers and toes, and he smiles. “We are.”

Blaine props himself up on one elbow. “You’re my husband.”

“And you’re mine,” Kurt reaches up and cups Blaine’s jaw, runs his thumb over his husband’s cheekbone. Blaine smiles wider and turns his face into Kurt’s palm.

Looking at Blaine, his hair falling rumpled over his forehead in the morning light, Kurt feels like something has clicked in his chest. Not that it was out of place, that he was missing something - just that something new has started. Something _good_.

Their relationship - it’s different now. They’re different now. Everything has changed. Blaine’s body is different - there’s a scar on his hip where he tripped and fell during some class at NYADA, right onto another student with keys in their hand. The first night of their honeymoon, Kurt had kissed the scar and apologised, hating that he hadn’t been there. Blaine just smiled and took his hand and said “We’re married,” and drew Kurt into a real kiss.

The first few nights of their marriage, they’d both been running on the high of being _married_  - breaking into giggles every time they saw the rings, getting a kick out of referring to each other as _husband_ , planning ridiculous things like buying a lighthouse and adopting seven kids and thirteen dogs and having sex for _ever_. But now, Kurt feels like he’s settled into a new skin. One he’s still testing out, but fits better than ever.

“Kurt?”

Kurt blinks, comes back to himself. Blaine trails his fingers down Kurt’s chest. “Lost you for a minute there.”

“I was just thinking about us,” Kurt smiles, “How I feel like everything’s different, but - but everything’s right, too.”

“I know,” Blaine says, “Me too. But you know what?”

“Tell me.”

“I’ll make everything righter if you get the lube out of the drawer,” Blaine grins, and Kurt growls and flips them, digging his fingers into Blaine’s ribs and making him burst out laughing.


	9. can't help falling in love

Kurt listens as Blaine details the plays of the latest football game he’d watched - complete with sugar packets for each of the players, carefully moving them across the table with Kurt’s empty coffee cup the touchdown line. He rests his chin on his hand, can’t help but smile when Blaine’s eyes get all wide and he gestures.

“And then - this was incredible, right, are you listening -”

“I am,” Kurt says, tucking his foot against Blaine’s under the table and reaching out for his wildly gesticulating hand so it doesn’t knock the tray out of the hands of a passing customer, “Keep going.”

“Right,” Blaine nods vehemently, “So, after that...”

Kurt nods, though really he’s distracted by the smudge of whipped cream at the side of Blaine’s mouth. They’re trying to reduce their coffee intake, and today Blaine had ordered for them both - peppermint hot chocolate, said with a wink and the kind of look that said he’d be tasting it on Kurt’s lips later.

Blaine is still going - his enthusiasm for football really knows no bounds - but Kurt really doesn’t mind. Honestly, he’d listen to Blaine read the phone book if it made him happy.

 _You are so gone for him, Hummel_.

The little voice in the back of his head sounds a lot like Mercedes, but Kurt ignores it, smiling as Blaine throws his arms up in an expression of triumph, scattering sugar packets everywhere.

Yeah, he’s totally gone for Blaine. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.


	10. thinking out loud

“Hey,” Blaine trails his fingers over Kurt’s shoulders, “They both asleep?”

Kurt smiles up at his husband. “Mm, yeah. Out cold. It’s been a long day.”

“Good,” Blaine flops down next to him on the couch, “You know it’s Valentine’s day today?”

“I did,” Kurt rests his head on Blaine’s shoulder, “Guessed by the number of nervous couples at the ice rink and the number of times August got knocked over by some asshole trying to show off.”

“Next time we’ll pick another day for skating,” Blaine yawns, “God, we’re getting old.”

“Tell me about it,” Kurt reaches over for Blaine’s hand, “My knees were hurting when I got up this morning. It’s the cold weather.”

“Mm, me too,” Blaine lets out a low chuckle, “You know, we should be having sex right now.”

“Why?” Kurt frowns up at him, “Did we schedule it?”

“Not really, but it is Valentine’s day,” Blaine sighs, “Unfortunately, my butt is aching from falling over at least seven times today.”

“We’ll save it for another day,” Kurt kisses his jaw, “When our legs are working a little better. If you rearrange sex you can make the word nap.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Just thinking out loud,” Kurt pushes and ends up with them both horizontal on the couch, “Naps are good.”

“Mm,” Blaine tugs the blanket on the couch over them, “Fully agreed.”

 _We are getting so old_ , Kurt thinks as he settles his head on Blaine’s chest, _but I wouldn’t change it for anything._


	11. chances are

The party is basically over - there are only five people still in Breadstix-slash-Love Shack, not that Blaine is really paying attention. Kurt’s face is buried in Blaine’s shoulder, arms tight around his waist, and they’ve been slow dancing in the same spot since the music switched from pop songs to ballads.

“I missed you,” Kurt murmurs, squeezing Blaine closer, “I was worried.”

“I know,” Blaine whispers, “I was too.”

The song changes, to an old Johnny Mathis song. Kurt pulls back with a sigh, smiles sadly. “This song always makes me think of you.”

“Really?” 

“Well, whenever I see you I get a ridiculously huge smile on my face,” Kurt pulls away, spins him slowly and then pulls them together again, “And you know that it always takes me a moment to get myself together again when you kiss me.”

“Well,” Blaine shrugs, “I could say the same about you.”

“ _In the magic of moonlight_ ,” Kurt sings, “ _When I sigh ‘hold me close, dear’...chances are you believe...”_

 _“The stars that fill the skies are in my eyes_ ,” Blaine joins in, nuzzling his cheek against Kurt’s, “Mm, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kurt says, “You know, I bet we could still get a hotel room. Make this Valentine’s Day _really_  good.”

“In a little while,” Blaine sighs, “Let’s just dance a little while longer.”

“Okay,” Kurt kisses his temple, “Anything for you.”

 _Guess you feel you’ll always be_  
the one and only one for me  
and if you think you could,  
well, chances are your chances are awfully good!  
The chances are your chances are awfully good! 


End file.
